


Gold Sun

by Burgie



Category: Star Stable Online
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 16:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15344046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie
Summary: Loke and Isolde are tasked with writing letters for a school assignment. Little do they know what it will start...





	Gold Sun

Like most farm children in the Harvest Counties, Loke and Isolde were home-schooled. While most people would have thought that this was a pretty sweet deal, however, both teens could attest that home schooling was not fun at all, not when their mothers were real drill sergeants. Their fathers were considerably less strict, Filip believing that farm chores could be used in exchange for school work while Angus got frustrated too easily and gave up the lesson for lost if Isolde couldn't understand what he was trying to teach her.

However, despite their different schooling hours and methods of learning (Loke was better at watching but needed more guidance, while Isolde was a quick learner who also liked to get her hands dirty in her work), both teens were up to the same part of their curriculum.

"Write a letter? Ugh, come on, mum, everyone just emails or texts these days," said Loke when Martina announced the assignment to him.

"I don't care, Loke, it's part of the curriculum, now do it," said Martina, tapping the paper on the desk in front of him as she walked away. Loke huffed and scuffed the ground with his shoe, startling a wayward chicken.

"This sucks," said Loke. But he picked up his pen and held it over the paper, trying to think of what to write. "What should I even write, mum?"

"Anything as long as it's to another person," said Martina. "Write it to one of the chickens if you want."

"You could write it to Casper!" Freja piped up, holding up her struggling, fluffy animal of a cat. Her arms were already littered with scratches and bite marks, but his little sister didn't seem to mind.

"Write it to a potential employer," said Filip on his way through the farmyard carrying a sack of grains.

"Or a pretty girl you like," Saga chipped in from the milking shed. Loke hummed thoughtfully at that last suggestion. Saga liked someone? Ooh, such juicy gossip! He'd definitely need to find out who it was and then tease her mercilessly about it. But then, the idea fully sank in. Oh! Well, there was this one girl he'd seen sometimes in Jarlaheim, though she lived on a farm on the opposite side of the city.

Isolde Goldspur pulled herself up into her Arabian mare's saddle, settling into it.

"I'm going to send my letter now, mum!" she called as she headed out of the farmyard.

"Good girl! When you get home, you have a field waiting for you to weed it!" her mother called back. Isolde rolled her eyes, deciding to take her time in the city. Weeding sucked, especially because she still hadn't managed to train a horse into only eating the weeds and not the wheat or sunflowers.

Arriving in Jarlaheim city was always like a warm, comforting hug to Isolde. She loved the bustle of the city, the noises and smells and atmosphere. Even the smoky alleys were delightful to her. But today, her goal was not the alleyways or the little shops, but the post office.

"Hey, Jarrod," said Isolde, dismounting and holding out the letter. "I've got a letter for you to deliver."

"Isolde Goldspur, right?" said Jarrod, pushing his glasses further up his nose as he glanced down at something.

"Yes, that's me," said Isolde, feeling uncertain. "Why do you ask?"

"I actually have a letter for you right here!" said Jarrod, picking up a letter from the desk and handing it to her. Isolde took it, feeling confused now.

"Oh," said Isolde. "I wonder who it's from." She didn't recognise the writing, but she thought that she could see a feather tucked into the flap of the envelope. It had probably ended up there accidentally, though, unless someone was trying to sell her a chicken. Maybe a chicken had written it, the handwriting on the envelope was bad enough.

"I won't pry," said Jarrod, settling back onto his stool with a smile. "Have a lovely day! I'll be sure that this letter gets to its recipient."

"Thanks," said Isolde, grinning. Rather than getting back onto her horse, though, Isolde instead led her horse into the little park nearby, enjoying the dappled shade under the trees. She let her horse graze while she sat down on a park bench, excitement fizzing in her stomach as she held the envelope. She grinned, staring at it for a moment, and then finally slipped her finger beneath the flap and opened the envelope, drawing out a letter that had some cat fur stuck to it. Cat? She only knew one family here with a cat, but... maybe she was overthinking it.

"To Isold,

Hi, I'm Loke. I don't know if you'd remember me but I've seen you in Jarlaheim a few times. You're pretty. Great, I mean. Pretty great.

I live on a farm, Sunfield farm, I don't know if you've heard of it? I think my dad sometimes takes wheat to your grandpa to make it into flower or something. I usually don't pay much attention to what's going on. More interesting things, like that spooky place we live in front of. Hey, isn't that sorta near your farm too? Devil's Gap, I think it's called. Everyone's scared of it but I think it sounds cool. We should go there sometime.

Grr, I'm supposed to be telling you about myself. I'm Loke Sunfield, I live on Sunfield farm with my mum, my dad, a big sister Saga, a little sister Freja, and my baby brother Tor. We have cows, chickens, pigs, and if my sister gets her way, we're gonna have cats, too. But we only have one. Casper. He's Freja's poor cat. We don't have a horse, though, which is weird. But apparently you have horses? I, uh. I like spending time outside or inside playing video games, and I like watching funny videos on the internet. I also like watching other shows on TV, and movies. Mostly action movies or comedy movies. Like a typical boy, I guess.

Anyway, uh, write back maybe? I'd like to get to know you more. If you want to, that is. You're probably really busy over on your farm, what with all those horses. And I'm sure you have more interesting people to hang out with. You seem so cool. I look forward to hearing back from you, if you write back. Gah, I hope my mum doesn't have to read this to mark it...

From Loke Sunfield"

Isolde's cheeks were warm by the time she'd finished reading, and she reread the letter several times before she beamed, refolding the letter and putting it away. Well, she'd spelled his name wrong, but she guessed that it was an easy mistake to make. And he'd written to her too! Maybe this whole letter-writing business was okay after all...

"Loke, you've got a letter!" Martina called the following afternoon after collecting the mail. Loke looked up from his latest assignment, his heart pounding.

"Can I read it now?" asked Loke. He couldn't possibly concentrate on building a bridge out of popsicle sticks now. Freja had lovingly supplied them to him, but surely it could wait.

"Alright," said Martina, giving him a gentle smile as she handed the letter to him. She hadn't needed to read the letter, thankfully, she'd even told him to put it in the envelope, put a stamp on it, and take it to the post office himself. Which he'd done not too long ago, yesterday morning after he'd finished writing it and agonising over every word. He'd actually been thinking about it all night. But would it be a reply? His hands shaking, Loke escaped to his bedroom to read it, devouring the letter with hungry eyes.

"To Loki,

Hi, my name is Isolde Goldspur. I live on Goldspur farm, on the other side of Jarlaheim from you. On my family farm, we not only have cows, horses, sheep, wheat, and sunflowers, we also have two mills for grinding wheat into flower. I think your dad comes over with some wheat sometimes so that my grandpa can grind it into flower. Well, so we can take it to the mills, anyway. Grandpa's back is always playing up, it sucks. But we also own this huge forest, or part of it, Greendale. We have some races in there. On our farm, we currently breed Andalusians, Arabians, and Selle Francais. They're so beautiful, but I love the Arabians most of all. They're so fun to ride, and they look so cool. What's your favourite breed of horse? Oh, uh, I don't know if you have horses, though. Sorry if that was an awkward question.

I have one older brother named Tristan, and two little terrors for younger brothers called Alexander and Hannibal. Yeah, trust me, we all appreciate the irony in their names. Mum said they're strong names but I dunno, I think they might be curses, ha ha. I live with my mum and dad, but I also spend time with my grandpa down at the lower farm. I like going for trail rides in the forest, but I also really love going into Jarlaheim. I know, it's weird for a country girl to love the city, but I do. It just makes me feel so happy, and there's so much cool stuff there. Maybe I'll even be able to go into Jorvik City one day, that would be so awesome.

I hope to hear back from you soon, if you want to write back, that is. I'd like to get to know you better.

From Isolde Goldspur."

Loke's eyes kept going back to that one sentence, over and over again. She'd like to get to know him better. His heart pounded, and he wondered at the odds of the two of them writing letters to each other. He also wondered if he should write back first. Maybe she was already writing back to him.

"You look like the cat that got the cream," said Martina, smiling as her son walked out of the house with a goofy grin on his face and another envelope in his hand.

"Casper didn't-" Freja began, but she stopped when she realised what her mother had meant.

"I got a really nice letter," said Loke, shrugging. Normally, he liked to act aloof, but now, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. He almost skipped into Jarlaheim, and he was so intent on getting to the post office that he didn't see the black Arabian standing in front of it until he'd walked right into her tail. The mare whinnied, stepping away, and the feeling of her tail smacking his face broke Loke out of his trance. He shook his head, blushing as he realised that the horse's rider was standing right there in front of him and giggling.

"You'd think a black horse would stand out against the city streets," said the girl, grinning. "Surely, Gavin's doing a better job than that. I mean, I know the lights have been blowing more recently, but come on."

"Uh- I- Isolde?" said Loke, the name sounding strange coming from his mouth. He said it like 'I-sold-uh. Isolde giggled again, the sound making his head spin.

"It's pronounced like Isolde," said Isolde, pronouncing it like 'Iss-old. "But close enough. At least you got the spelling right. Mostly, anyway."

"O-oh," said Loke, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. "S-sorry, I- I have heard your friends saying it before, but I guess I just blanked."

"It's okay," said Isolde. Her smile was warm. She glanced down at the envelope that he held in his hands. "Sending another letter?"

"Well, it's a waste of a stamp, as my mum would say, but... here," said Loke, handing the letter to her. Isolde beamed.

"My dad would say the same," said Isolde. "Or my grandpa. Jarrod, you can give Loke his letter now if you want. Ha, this is how I got your letter, isn't that funny?"

"Yeah, funny," said Loke, giving a laugh that sounded nervous to his own ears.

"Y'know, it's funny, I suggested meeting up in my letter but this works too," said Isolde, laughing. "It's nice to meet you, Loke."

"You too, Isolde," said Loke, smiling as he held out his hand for Isolde to shake. The smile that Isolde gave him almost made him weak at the knees. Who knew that a school assignment could lead to him blushing and swooning like a girl? But Loke found that he didn't mind much. Isolde was a Goldspur woman, after all, of course she'd wear the pants, so to speak, in this... whatever this was. And Loke was glad to let her. Though, he might keep writing letters to her. Just for fun. It had worked out well so far, after all.


End file.
